


You wanna get out of here?

by omgmybffmegatron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: M/M, Rating: NC17, Rough Sex, Spoilers, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2013-04-02
Packaged: 2017-12-07 06:17:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/745253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omgmybffmegatron/pseuds/omgmybffmegatron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Spotlight: Trailcutter preview floating around... So, spoilers, I guess?  Tagged, just in case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You wanna get out of here?

**Author's Note:**

> Perceptor/Drift  
> NSFW, Sticky, Rough
> 
> My first time writing otp doing more than just fondling and blowjobs aoisdnfon *hides away*

Perceptor stared at Brainstorm, clearly unimpressed by the engineer’s accomplishment and how he proudly raised his wings at the praise he received from their captain.  Oh, Brainstorm _knew_ Perceptor was in the crowd; this was his time to _finally_ _outshine_ his fellow scientist in front of _everyone_.  And he made sure his object of obsession was aware of this by making eye contact and giving a little wink of his optic.

“Pompous, idiotic…” the sniper mumbled under his breath just as Rodimus called for applause.  Next to him, Drift stood with a pleased smile as he joined the others in honoring the trio—including Brainstorm.  Nope.  Perceptor wasn’t having _anything_ to do with it.

With his hands on his hips, the scientist looked to Drift.  “Would you like to interface with me?”

The swordsman slowed his clapping, his smile fading into a confused frown as he turned his head to look at his friend.  “Uh… Yes?”

\----

The moment they entered Drift’s office, the mech found himself shoved over the edge of his desk.  “Uhf… Stronger than you look.”  The base of his finial was promptly treated with a slow massage, of which elicited a shuddering moan from the swordsman.  “Mm… If… If it’s any consolation, I _still_ think you’re the best scientist,” Drift added, feeling his frame tremble.

“…”

“H-Hey…”  The swordsman glanced over his shoulder.  “I mean it.”

Perceptor continued to remain silent as he lowered his hand to Drift’s panel, tracing the design, causing the white mech to buck against the desk.  “Sensitive,” Perceptor muttered in observation.  “Does watching Rodimus _turn_ _you on,_ Drift?  Or is the idea of having my _spike filling your valve_ too much for you?”

Drift’s panel retracted, revealing both covers.  “B-Both?”  He gave Perceptor a sheepish smile—one that quickly disappeared as he felt the sniper tease his valve cover.  “I can imagine how _thrilled_ you would be to swallow his spike as I _fuck_ your sweet valve.  You would enjoy that, would you not?”  With a groan, Drift’s cover spiraled open, releasing the lubricant that had collected behind it.

“Look at you, Drift…”  Perceptor slid his hand along the swordsman’s thigh armor.  “These curves suit you.”  He leaned over the mech to speak softly against his audial: “Though, your previous frame was quite alluring, as well.  In fact…”  He paused briefly to circle the rim of Drift’s valve.  “I often found myself self-servicing to your image—my _savior_.”

There was another rush of lubricant.  “ _Perceptor_ ,” he gasped.

“Hmm?”  Perceptor began to stroke the outer sensor nodes.  “Yes, Drift?”

“ _Fuck. Me._ ”

The sniper’s panel retracted, his spike pressurizing into his hand.  “As you wish…”  Drift clung to the desk, his optics dim as he stared back at Perceptor in anticipation.  The two have shared moments like this before, though Drift was usually the one to initiate such encounters; it always took him off guard whenever the scientist made the first move.

Perceptor wasted no time in penetrating his lover’s valve, emitting a pleased rumble as Drift clenched around his length.  He ran one hand along Drift’s aft, following the curve up to his back, where he applied pressure.  The swordsman gasped against the desk’s surface, his hips shifting, pulling a grunt from the sniper.

Perceptor hiked the mech’s leg up, pressing it firmly against the desk, providing a new angle that had his spike hitting a whole different set of sensor nodes.  Drift clawed at the surface beneath him as the sniper began to move.  “ _Percy_ … You’re… You’re the _best_ scientist… Ugh, _big_ …”  Perceptor dug his fingers into Drift’s armor, applying more force behind his thrusts, aiming for that one spot.

“AH!”

Drift was starting to leave shallow gouges in his desk as the charge continued to build.  The sniper was certainly well-endowed; the prominent ridges along his spike hit every sensor node just right, leaving Drift squirming and begging for more.

“Per… Perceptor!”

The scientist revved his engine, allowing the vibrations to flow across Drift’s lower half, triggering his overload.  Perceptor increased his pace, prolonging the swordsman’s pleasure until his spike swelled against the valve’s inner walls.  He growled out Drift’s name as he pressed deeper, filling the canal with hot fluid.  It was enough to draw another hard shudder from the smaller mech before he completely went limp.

Perceptor held himself over his lover, venting hard to cool his overheated systems.  “That… I think I’m gonna be sore for awhile,” Drift murmured.

“You will be well enough to carry out your function, Drift.”

“Not complaining.  I think we both needed that.”

Perceptor managed a smile and carefully withdrew.  “I apologize if I came across as vulg—” He was silenced as Drift turned and pulled him down for a kiss.  “Don’t worry about it, Perceptor.  I like it when you talk _dirty_.”


End file.
